Akting Out

So this is the second of what I hope is an ongoing series that chronicles one week in the life of someone who works a full time job and is trying to bring a book to market. Special thanks to the ridiculously talented Jamie Depree for giving me this idea.

So from here on out, I’ll go into what went right that previous week, what went wrong, and what’s coming up that following week.

What Went Right

My subscription to Writer’s Digest kicked in! I got two issues this week, and this thing is almost impossible to read at work. I’ve missed entire calls because I was knee-deep in advice on story prompts and mind-shopping for all of the things I didn’t know I needed until I saw them. Seriously, if you have the extra fifty bucks to blow (it’s tax time, you can squeeze it out somewhere) sign up for the VIP program. It’s worth every penny.

I got to play Marvel Vs. Capcom 3: Fate of Two Worlds on the day it came out! Part of the reason I love living out here is that there is no waiting for a good game, and while I couldn’t snag the special edition, I didn’t have to wait in line for a copy. Capcom got this one right, and Prima created a gorgeous strategy guide to go with it.

My oldest son celebrated his fifteenth birthday on Valentine’s Day! He’s both on the honor and on the verge of being expelled for fighting. Only my son.

I’m working on/through three offers to publish Atherean Defenders. One of from a publisher I know, trust, and have history with, another will pay my way out of the day job at the cost of my rights, and another is a negotiation-in-process to turn Atherean Defenders into a video game. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do, but I have some time to figure it out.

I got an email from a family-owned company asking me to review their products on my blog. I have yet to investigate the offer, but it’s the first one I’ve ever received.

What Went Wrong

So I’m making my lunch the other day, a casual event, one easily taken for granted until one forgets that BIG SHARP KNIVES are involved. No matter what else one may be doing, one must never forget, nor disrespect, the knife. I did both.
So I sit here writing this with my left middle finger while my index finger recovers.

I’ve written more words in this blog than I have all week. I don’t think I’ve even turned on the desktop all week.

I didn’t get into the gym at all this week. I compensated by eating better, but I’m still ten pounds heavier than I intended. Fell way short of the goal this week.

Next Week On Life As I Play It

Wednesday: An Introduction For Parents To The ESRB  (A guide for parents from a parent about buying video games for your kids)

Friday: Writer’s Diary (Summary of the week’s events)

Goals: Week of February 21, 2011

Writing

-Complete Chapter “A Lie Of Omission” for Atherean Defenders

-Make Blogging Deadlines this week

Personal

-Spend at least four hours in the gym

-Train for thirty minutes per night, twice a week

-Lose three pounds

Business

-Resume work on the website

-Continue negotiations on publishing contracts

Day Job

-Sell at least two TV products

-Bring adherence (at-work attendance) up to where it should be

-Miss no time

That’s it for now! See you next week!

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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If I had to liken myself to any two objects, the first would be one of those pullback/release type of toy cars. You know how they feel when you pull them back; as though they’re about to explode out of your hands? Well, when you let me go, I’ll charge ahead blindly at full speed, until I hit the wall.

Another object would be a bullet. Once fired, I would usually destroy my target without caring about collateral damage. I was one who very much believed that the ends justified the means.

I’m not as reckless as I used to be. In fact, the older I get, the more things come into perspective.

I should’ve done something about my children a long time ago, but I didn’t, and I try not to waste time lamenting things that cannot be changed. Here and now is what I have to work with. I am terrified of being a single father. At nineteen, I edited out Eminem CD’s and allowed my son to sing along, and at thirty-two, I’m wondering what the hell I was thinking. I don’t engage in random acts of violence. I don’t even dress the same way anymore.

In short, I’m not going to have any idea what I’m doing.

I will have help—for which I’m grateful—but in the end, these two children are my responsibility, as I’m the one who brought them into this world. I don’t believe I’m any less guilty than their mother—we both left—and no matter what arrangement I work out with my children, I will never abandon them again.

I enjoy helping people and making a difference in people’s lives, even if it’s people I don’t know. I do this largely because I believe in karma, but also, it’s the right thing to do; I’ve had a lot of people help me for no reason throughout the years, I feel almost obligated to return the favor. My problem is that I don’t know as much as I think I do, and I absolutely hate to say no to someone in need. I used to habitually say yes and then apologize later, feeling guilty that I failed.

Okay, I admit to being pretty screwed up.

I’ve come to realize that there are things I know, and things I’m very good at, and those things I can pass on.

I would still like to create a place that encourages creative freedom; a place where writers, artists, and other creative minds can meet and bring their dreams to life without (too much) restraint. I have no idea how to do this right now, but when it’s time, I’m sure I’ll figure something out. Maybe I’ll use the little traction I have as a writer.

I’d like to be able to work as a full-time writer. I had a little taste of it last month; as unbelievable as it seems, I paid the bills using nothing but my imagination. It’s an addictive, galvanizing sensation, and I want more of it. Besides, being able to work from home allows me to spend more time with my kids…and family.

So there it is. This is what I’m about now, this is what I dream about, this is what I’m working for.

Maybe the next time I speak of my dreams, I’ll be able to compare myself to something less destructive than a bullet.

From the publish button to God’s ear.

(c) Avery K. Tingle for Akting Out LLC

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